


i really don't want to know

by bishounen_curious



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Making Out, Neck Kissing, Scent Kink, Secret Relationship, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6188023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounen_curious/pseuds/bishounen_curious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo and Yaku weren't the best planners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i really don't want to know

**Author's Note:**

> this was requested and I couldn't resist

“You smell so good.”

“Shut up,” Yaku grumbled. He cocked his head to the side and, in the process, knocked his forehead almost painfully into the wall as he attempted to give Kuroo more room to suck the spot just left from the center column of his throat. “I definitely don’t.”

“You do, though.” Kuroo smirked as he whisper-moaned, letting his long fingers scrunch the hair at the base of the libero’s skull. He didn’t seem to notice that Yaku had practically whacked his head into the wall at all, and instead Kuroo focused on compressing Yaku’s body further into the corner of said wall, into the juncture where it met the floor. Why they had decided to sit on the floor to make out was beyond the libero, but it wasn’t like he minded. “You don’t smell like fruit or flowers. Just like a person.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.” Yaku rolled his eyes, straightening his back, getting even more flush with the wall, even more trapped (and even more into it than he realistically should be, but whatever).

At his response, Kuroo laughed into his neck, making Yaku shiver, his breath tickling his saliva-wet skin. “I guess not. But you smell kinda sweaty. But not gross-sweaty. More like a shirt you’ve worn all day, like body heat or pheromones or something like that.”

“Like _pheromones_? Really?”

“Maybe we’re biologically compatible?”

Yaku was tempted to shove the grinning captain away from him and end this right now. This was so cheesy it made him flinch. “You’re embarrassing, you know that?”

“Oh, of course.” He could hear the mirth in his words, feel it against his neck. “That’s what you love about me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, jackass. And lay off on all the hickeys, okay?” Yaku rolled his eyes again, lightly shoving at Kuroo’s shoulders in mock-aggravation. But the move had no force behind it, and it had even less when the other’s mouth became bolder, teeth nipping into his bare skin just above the collar of his dress shirt, trailing up to the sensitive area behind his earlobe. It was hard not to feel cornered, both physically and emotionally, but in all honesty he couldn’t give a damn. Yaku swallowed down the sigh he instinctively wanted to let out, and his shoving hands were changing course and were now pulling Kuroo closer, securing him there, keeping him close. Everything was making his stomach flip-flop from all the good feelings the captain’s mouth made him experience, both of them all smushed together in an awkward, hormonal mess on the floor. Yaku had been in worse situations before. “And, well, I had PE last period. We did laps. So maybe I’m a little gross, to be honest.”

“A little gross, but sexy-gross.”

Kuroo shifted, pulling the libero into him, keeping their sandwiched bodies as stupidly close as possible, and inhaled deeply. Yaku licked his bottom lip and tried to not be so obvious about how hot he found that. 

They were definitely going to get in trouble for this. There was no doubt about it. It wasn’t like someone was going to barge into the clubroom at this point during the day, but… It was still school hours, and all of their teammates were in class. As should both of them be, but well… Well things don’t always happen the way they should. 

Sometimes things change up in routine because maybe it had been a few days since either of them had a moment to themselves like this. After all, this casual on-and-off hook-up thing had only been going on for about a month. Because, why not? It made sense, because both of them were in desperate need of physical attention, a little affection, and neither of them had an issue that that kind of satisfaction could come from each other. 

Also, the fact that they both were bad planners was a huge reality because maybe starting this thing right before midterms and a huge practice match week wasn’t too wise. So, there hadn’t exactly been a lot of free time to just indulge in all the physicality they wish they could. And combine that with all the stress and lack of touching, it had been enough to drive both boys to team-up and coordinate them both leaving halfway through their last class, texting each other in their separate homerooms to rendezvous in the clubroom. 

So they could make out before club activities started up that afternoon. Sometimes things like that happened.

At least they both acknowledged what they were doing was desperate and pretty stupid. But it wasn’t like that was enough to make them stop or reevaluate their poor decisions. Kissing felt too nice to stop over a little easily-dissipated guilt.

Yaku’s hands slid down Kuroo’s front, squeezing at his toned obliques through his increasingly-wrinkling uniform jacket. Even through his clothes he could feel it, apparently, and the captain groaned. His hand not in Yaku’s hair slipped down to the libero’s right hand, and Kuroo guided it to slip underneath his jacket, beneath his button down shirt, to untuck it so it could make contact with skin.

Neither of them were going back to class, after all. And they had to change out of their uniforms for practice clothes, anyway… So if a shirt came off, it wasn’t the end of the world, right?

Yaku’s thumb pressed circles into the sinewy shapes of Kuroo’s torso, his body radiating familiar, intimate heat. Kuroo groaned again into the libero’s ear, his shoulders hunching up at the sensation. _Shit_. Yaku’s stomach was flip-flopping much, much worse now, and he tried to ignore the stiffness growing steadily in his pants. They didn’t have enough time for _that_. For relief like that, for time to clean up after something like _that_ , to remain _inconspicuous_ when the team arrived. 

Nobody knew the two third year’s were a thing, and nobody had to know about it, either.

“You’re killing me,” Kuroo laughed tensely, returning his mouth to Yaku’s throat, nipping more enthusiastically this time around. “I almost wanna skip practice.”

“Someone’s libido’s acting up, huh.”

“Yeah, _up_. Definitely.” Kuroo snickered, biting harder, making Yaku’s voice hike up in pitch as he released a horrifyingly-pathetic moan. “And don’t pretend you’re not hard too, buddy.”

“At least I’m not whining about it,” Yaku hissed, his fingernails digging into Kuroo’s skin when the captain’s tongue found a particularly sensitive area, and began to exploit it mercilessly, making him shudder from his head to his toes. “Or trying to cancel practice just to get some. Desperate, much?”

“Do you think we can both get each other off before practice?” Kuroo’s voice was velvety and lower than Yaku had ever heard it. Now, that was making him consider the whole _cancelling practice to get some_ scenario. 

Alright, so they hadn’t had sex yet. A few rushed handjobs, the one time Kuroo had given him decent head, the instance last week when they dry humped each other after practice instead of locking up the gym like they were supposed to. 

That was about the extent of their activities. But it didn’t mean it would be it. Really, it was only a matter of time before they decided to seal the deal. They both wanted it, and didn’t hide that from each other. Especially in those text conversations they had with each other late at night. So… technically _today_ could be the day…

_Oh no_. 

He was spiraling downward into Kuroo’s trap. No way. The Tokyo Preliminaries were coming up soon, and they needed to practice. That was important. Getting stronger to earn one of the Tokyo representative spots was important. Sex _wasn’t_.

“No,” Yaku gulped, squaring his shoulders definitively in the best way he could in his cramped position, “We can’t. And won’t.”

But apparently Kuroo wasn’t giving up so easily, and suggested coyly, “What if I went down on you?”

Although the mental images from last time flooded his conscience and his body suddenly _ached_ for that to happen again with him melting into the sharp angle where both walls and floor met, Yaku had to stay strong. For the good of the team. And maybe also his pride. 

“It took forever last time,” Yaku frowned. “And you don’t exactly give the best head, y’know.”

Apparently, strong was also synonymous with mean.

Kuroo pulled away from the libero. The hot flush creeping up to his ears was strangely satisfying to see, Yaku thought. “That was the first time I ever did that. You _know_ that.”

“Oh, I _know_.”

“I’ll be better next time.” Kuroo huffed, trying to look sure of himself while simultaneously attempting to salvage his damaged pride. “If you give me the chance, that is.”

“You’re not blowing me now.” Yaku gritted through his teeth, his self-control slipping away far too fast than he was comfortable with. “No one’s blowing anyone right now.”

“So we’re just going to go to practice with boners, then?”

“Don’t be cheeky. Just don’t think about it,” Yaku snipped, sticking his chin up to glare at the captain full-on, “They’ll go down eventually.”

“Not when you smell so freaking good, it won’t,” Kuroo grumbled back just as stubbornly before burying his face into the libero’s neck with a growl. 

This was getting ridiculous. Also frankly humiliating, because every compliment and combative comment, every little ministration and breath was making Yaku more and more aware of how _hard_ it was to ignore his own arousal.

“I wanna kiss you everywhere,” Kuroo mumbled after awhile, his awkwardly big hands pulling at the libero’s hair, teeth scraping along the contour of his jaw. Yaku vaguely wondered if Kuroo minded the prickle of his unshaven face against the captain’s own smooth cheeks.

He probably didn’t mind at all.

“Alright,” Yaku declared hoarsely, stretching out towards his school bag to fish out his phone. They needed some kind of solution here. He opened the screen to check the time, angling his head to see it as Kuroo’s chapped lips continued to peck his face. “We have ten minutes. Not enough for head, but enough to jerk each other off, maybe?”

Kuroo tsked, clearly unsatisfied with the proposition. “Not the _fun_ jerking off, though. Only the kind you do when you wake up later than you thought for school, and you need to get it done super quick because you can’t face the day without it. That definitely isn’t the fun kind.”

Yaku couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was awful how relatable he found that, how similar he and Kuroo really were. How well this arrangement worked. “Do you want to come before practice or not?”

“Not if it’s rushed. That’d just be sad.”

“So stop whining about getting off, then. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Fine, we’ll just go back to our scheduled make out programing, I guess.”

Yaku opened his mouth to bicker back, _we weren’t making out loser, you were giving me about three hundred hickeys I told you I didn’t want_ , but Kuroo’s lips slotted against his so smoothly it caught him off guard. Yaku blinked, mouth unresponsive for a beat as Kuroo kissed him in that sweetly confident way that had made him agree to this ridiculous casual arrangement in the first place. It wasn’t long before he was kissing back, scooting closer so he could sling his legs around Kuroo’s, sliding into an awkwardly-crunched position that definitely was going to give him neck and back cramps later. 

Kuroo’s half-untucked shirt was a full-blown disaster in no time. Now, his back was an available blank canvas for the libero’s claw marks, and Yaku took full advantage of that. He hummed into the kiss, licking the roof of the captain’s mouth, relishing in the way that it made them both shiver. How those hands were both in his hair, pulling and carding through it, feeling so much better than it should was a mystery. But what was even more mysterious was how cold and uncomfortable the floor of the clubroom was, yet neither of them seemed to give it a second thought.

Both their body’s were warm, anyhow.

The only breaks they took were to breathe. To pull back and only to deepen immediately after, to trace butterfly kisses along their faces. Yaku wasn’t a particularly affectionate kisser by nature, but Kuroo was. And well, if anything, he was adaptive to his partner, so maybe he bestowed a few more nose and eyelid kisses than he would normally have. Not that he minded, of course. Especially with how preciously Kuroo drank up all the affection, eyes crinkling in bliss with every kiss.

“I can’t wait until after practice,” Kuroo breathed, a huge grin on his face as he broke away for air.

“I offered to -“

“No, not that.” Kuroo whispered into his ear, “To smell you. All sweaty and tired and good.”

Yaku had to force down the sound the throb in his belly almost made him release. What the hell? That weird sweat kink was rubbing off on him, and Yaku was not having it. “You’ve got a problem, you know that?”

“Everyone’s got their thing,” Kuroo beamed naughtily, dotting repetitive kisses beneath Yaku’s left eye, “At least I’m not calling you _Daddy_.”

That was the last straw.

Yaku gasped and pulled away. “Sicko!”

Kuroo cackled and dove back to kiss the libero, but Yaku wasn’t so forgiving. He turned his head, which seemed like a victory, but suddenly they were back where they started, with Kuroo nipping teasingly at his throat and licking all the prominent veins and mumbling arousal-laden comments into his quivering skin and Yaku was falling apart all over again. 

“You’re the worst,” Yaku groaned, his hands grappling to get the captain nearer, so tempted to wrap his legs around the other’s waist.

“Proud of it, too.”

“Of course you are, you _freak_.”

“Mm.”

“Ugh…” Yaku squirmed, “Can you go back - _yeah, right there_.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue, clearly satisfied with himself. “And here I thought that Daddy comment would get your boner down. Looks like that plan backfired.”

“Shut up. Just - when you’re -!” Yaku’s brain was so easily fried. It was a wonder what a little suction and teeth in the right place could do to his composure. “Just cancel practice, I don’t even care anymore. Just stay right there.” Yaku tipped his head back, as much as he could, and finally let himself moan.

“Now who’s desperate?”

And between the bickering and the complaining, they somehow returned to their liplock and shut up.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed as they moved their mouths together. But when an alarm pierced the quiet of the clubroom, both of them detached themselves quickly from each other like they had been zapped, staring in horror at each other because _oh no we went over time we’re so dead_ before they registered it was just the captain’s phone receiving a message. Kuroo laughed as he reached for it, yet obviously very shaken up, and checked to see what it was. 

“Kenma texted me.” Kuroo announced with relief, and read it while Yaku recovered from his almost bout with cardiac arrest. But then the captain’s face suddenly fell and paled, and all the nerves were back one-hundred percent and Yaku started chewing on his already too-short thumbnail.

“What’s it say?”

“He’s asking whether or not I’m cancelling practice.”

Yaku narrowed his eyes, thumb slipping down to his lower lip. Something didn’t add up. “Why’d he ask that?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t mention anything about -“

But then his phone dinged again with a new text, and Kuroo’s face twisted with renewed fear.

“What?” Yaku felt sick.

“The door’s locked and he can’t get in, so he’s… he’s been waiting outside for like five minutes.”

Oh. _Oh_. “Shit, he heard us, then?”

Kuroo’s eyes were wide as he stared hopelessly at his phone screen, whispering, “Fuck, he knows.” 

Yaku climbed off him and flushed, already working on making himself look like he hadn’t just been sucking face with the captain on the floor. “We’re screwed.”

“He won’t tell anyone,” Kuroo dragged his palm over his face. “I’m just so embarrassed. I don’t want to have this conversation with him.”

When he was done smoothing out his jacket and readjusting his skewed tie, Yaku cocked his head towards the door, silently asking permission to go let the blonde in. Kuroo just awkwardly shrugged. Yaku’s jaw tensed, and went to unlock the door with his pulse heavily thundering in his ears, his sweaty fingers shaking all the while. The next thing he realized was that there was a very bored-looking, unamused setter gazing down at his phone in front of him.

“Sorry,” Yaku said uselessly, trying not to be so visibly ashamed. Not like Kenma was looking at him anyway, but still.

“Don’t be so obvious about it.” Kenma countered noncommittally, and brushed passed the libero and made a bee-line straight towards his locker. Yaku bit his lip and tried to recover what was left of his dignity, but he couldn’t think of anything constructive to say so he kept quiet.

“Kenma,” Kuroo broke the tense air, “I was gonna tell you about it -“

“No, you weren’t.” The blonde quipped back in the same flat tone. “And you wouldn’t need to tell anyone. Not when you leave so much evidence.”

Both of them weren’t sure what was being insinuated. Evidence? What evidence? But Kenma, as he started to change, pointed to his own neck. “Evidence.”

Kuroo’s lips parted in understanding and his eyes slid over to the libero. Suddenly, he started choking. 

“What?” Yaku asked, increasingly self-conscious.

“I’m so sorry.” Kuroo mumbled, touching his own neck.

Yaku in turn touched his own neck, and turned bright red as realization hit him like a brick. Oh no no no no. He used his phone to check himself out in the camera, and lo and behold, confirming his worst fear, his neck looked like an ugly polkadot pattern.

“I told you not to leave marks, jackass!” his voice was shrill.

“I couldn’t help it!” Kuroo defended lamely, “you smelled so good!”

Kenma cleared his throat, cutting both of the upperclassmen off. Kuroo and Yaku just stared at each other, panicking and so comically hopeless.

“How can we explain this to everyone?” Kuroo lamented, face in his hands. “What’re we gonna tell Inuoka?”

“More importantly, what are we gonna tell _Lev_?”

Both boys groaned. This was turning into a huge, uncontainable mess.

“Kenma,” Kuroo got up and pulled on the back of the setter’s practice shirt in a pathetic plea, “help me.”

“No.”

“Kenma!”

“Cancel practice, then. I don’t care.”

Just then, the door popped open and in came Yamamoto, just as obnoxious and loud as usual. He greeted them with his typical _yo_ before his focus locked onto Yaku’s neck, probably drawn to the sharp contrasting colors of the bruises littering his skin. Yaku wanted to curl up and die.

“Woah, woah, what’re those?!” Yamamoto challenged, making his way to the libero with growing scandalized curiosity.

“Practice is cancelled,” Kuroo swooped in and cut him off in his path. With a deadpanned expression, he wrapped his arm around the second-year’s shoulder and forcibly escorted him towards the exit of the clubroom. “Text the rest of the team.”

That had thrown the spiker for a loop, and his mouth hung open in confusion. “Captain…?”

“See you tomorrow, buddy.”

And then the door was slammed shut and locked with the perplexed spiker behind it. Yaku and Kenma shot Kuroo disappointed, yet strangely thankful looks.

“Coach is gonna kick my ass,” was all Kuroo said, as he smiled the most self-loathing smile either boy had ever witnessed.

Yaku could only suck his teeth. “That’s probably payback for the Daddy comment.”

Kenma scrunched up his face, and Yaku was so close to slapping himself. _Just keeping digging your hole deeper, Morisuke._

Kuroo turned almost as red and splotchy as the hickeys all over the libero’s neck. “Kenma, it’s not like that, I swear.”

“I really don’t want to know.”

“Seriously!”

“I _really_ don’t want to know.”

**Author's Note:**

> based off convos i’ve had with one of my best friends who always tells me i smell really good even tho i’m always a gross mess when i see her. this one is for u
> 
> bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


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